


Brothers

by VivaJayne



Category: Oliver & Company (1988)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivaJayne/pseuds/VivaJayne
Summary: Hey everyone, this is just a quick little one-shot for Oliver and Dodger, because they are my absolute FAVORITE Disney NON-romantic couple. Read and enjoy





	Brothers

Dodger burst into Fagin’s tiny shack of a home, nails scraping against the worn wood as he spun to face Einstein and Francis bearing the struggling white bundle.

“Let him out you guys!” He barked, is tail straight with worry. They’d busted Oliver out of that torture house with only seconds to spare before Winston was upon them, but that didn’t mean they were in the clear if Oliver wasn’t okay.

“Yeah come on guys! Letim out, letim out, letim ouuuut!” Tito jumped around excitedly, growling at anything that moved to display his ‘courage’. Einstein and Francis opened their jowls, letting the struggling pillow case fall to the floor. Dodger watched on with searching eyes while Oliver fought with his bindings, the gang afraid to help in case they tangled him further.

Eventually the little cat managed to back himself out of the fabric, shaking his head out of confusion. Where was he? He lifted his paws, making sure he was still alive and well. His orange fur was ruffled, but other than the obvious need for a grooming he was alright.

“Hey, he’s ok!” Einstein exclaimed, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Oliver blinked a few times, registering his surroundings. Could he really be here? He drunk in the sight of Fagin’s little old shack on the docks. He really was here. There was the old chair, and the TV, and the gang, and- and-

“Welcome back kid,” Dodger winked, shifting his red bandana with a shrug. “Good to see ya back livin’ the life a luxury.”

At the sound of Dodger’s voice Oliver snapped his gaze over to the care-free mutt. With an excited mew he launched himself at his friend. “Dodger!” Oliver meowed, “Oh Dodger, I missed you guys so much!” With a great purr he snuggled himself into the dog’s white fur. “How’d you know where to find me?” With a tail wagging back and forth more like a dog than a cat, he stared up at his rescuers.

“Intuition kid, you’ll gain some eventually,” Dodge smirked, ruffling Oliver’s fur.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Tito growled, continuing to bounce around the room. The little Chihuahua was chock full of energy and itching to get the brave story out in the open. “We busted you ouuuut Chiquita; you are welcome!”

“Excuse me, ‘we’?” Rita asked with an eyebrow raise. She flicked her paw at Tito in mockery. “ _We_ rescued the kid, _you_ were flirting with little Miss Champion.” The gang snickered. Oliver guessed that they were talking about Georgette.

“I don’t see what’s so special about her,” Oliver pouted. “Kinda ugly looking to me.” Rita, Francis, and Dodger burst into laughter, all of them giving Oliver a loving ruffle on the head. Tito gaped at the orange tabby, shock written on his features.

“Oh no, no, no!” He exclaimed, gripping the scruff around Oliver’s neck like he was drowning. “Are you _loco_ monsieur? Georgette is the most beautiful creature to ever grace the petty eyes of a pup like you or me! She’s breath-taking, she’s gorgeous, she’s-!”

“Alright Casanova,” Dodger growled, interrupting Tito’s shaking tirade. “Hands off the kid, alright?” Dodger inserted a grey paw in between Tito and Oliver, pushing Tito back a few inches. Oliver sat blinking at Tito, fixing the fur around his chest.

Tito grumbled something unintelligible, tearing his green headband off with a growl. The little dog was simply taken with Georgette, and there was no convincing him otherwise. With a huff he blew his red mane of fur away from his eyes, only to have it fall back into place once again. The group laughed at his less-than-spunky display.

“Well kid,” Dodger began, plopping to the ground with his paw around Oliver and ignoring Tito’s consistent mumblings about how the kid had ‘no taste in women’. “Whataya say, wanna tell us of your dealings with the devil?” He drew out the word ‘devil’, rolling it off his tongue with a wink.

The orange cat opened his mouth to tell them the story, of how it wasn’t that bad with Jenny, except for ‘Miss Champion’ Georgette, but his tale was interrupted by a pleading coming from the door. “What was that?” He mewed, swivelling his ears in the direction of the noise.

The dogs shared a look of dread. The pleading came again; pitiful and grovelling, but distinctly male and familiar. “Sounded like Fagin,” Rita announced. “You don’t think Sykes showed up early, do you?” As the pleading continued, and was followed by the thunder of an engine, they pretty much had their answer.

“Only one way to find out,” Dodger growled, nudging Oliver back and bounding towards the door. Oliver started to protest but Rita shook her head at him, backing Dodger’s unspoken command to stay put. He wasn’t happy about it, but he clamped his mouth shut and waited.

Dodger only got to the first step when two familiar silhouettes descended upon the group of dogs. The pair of Dobermans was unwelcome in their home, but deterring Roscoe and Desoto from a surprise visit was beyond the kind of power Dodger, or even Fagin had. Francis and Rita snarled at the enemy dogs, while Einstein simply glowered, placing a paw on Tito’s tail who was frantically trying to reach the imposing breed. Oliver gulped and, despite his stubbornness, ducked behind a box.

“Now, now,” Roscoe sneered. “What’s with all the hostilities? We only stopped in for a quick visit...” He shared a look with Desoto, causing both of them to snicker. Roscoe and Desoto showing up was the confirmation that the group needed to know that Sykes had definitely shown up early for his payment. Fagin would be in a lot of trouble right about now, and Dodger decidedly needed to get to him.

“Come on now fellas, you know there are no hard feelings,” Dodge grinned, the picture of ease amongst a tense room. “Why don’t you stay for a bit, have a dog biscuit:” He circled the two dogs, eyeing their movements while he approached the crate nearest to the door. Kicking a box of canine treats spilling onto the floor, he waited, making eyes with the rest of the gang. Desoto eyed the treats hungrily, being the dumber of the two, but Roscoe grimaced at the display.

“We’re not here on a casual visit Dodger,” He purred, his razor teeth shimmering in the evening light. Roscoe was a fearsome dog, with his silky black coat and fiery red collar matching his spiteful attitude, but there were ways to get to him. “We’re here on a business venture. _Right_ Desoto?” Roscoe whacked his comrade in the hindquarters with his paw, disorienting the dog. Desoto shook himself back into focus and quickly replaced his frown with a devilish grin.

“Yeah... yeah! The boss is upstairs right now dealing with your precious Fagin. We’ll see if he’s still so precious when we’re done with him.” Desoto was the lesser of the two dogs, the one only there for muscle and not any real skill. His blue collar also matched his laid back nature. He did what he was told, when he was told. The two dogs shared a wicked laugh.

“Why you evil, insolent, heartless, petty, feral, pitiful, ungracious little-” Francis growled, letting loose a bark. Rita intervened, placing a paw on Francis’s bulky shoulder. He growled, his anger still simmering at Roscoe, Desoto, and Sykes. Just as Dodger was about to smooth over the situation, a series of sharp snaps caught the attention of the group of dogs. Roscoe and Desoto shared yet another look, a grin stretching across both their faces. This couldn’t be good.

Oliver watched the events unfold from his perch on the boxes, black eyes wide with dread. He knew the snaps too. It meant that Sykes was calling his dogs; it meant they were going after Fagin! Oliver had to do something, but what? He looked around the sodden box he was crouched in- absolutely nothing of use. He couldn’t attack the dogs himself... he’d struck Desoto once before but that was by fluke. He wouldn’t get that lucky again... or would he?

Roscoe displayed his teeth in a depraved grin at the echoing snaps, shouldering Desoto roughly to make him leave. The duo turned towards the steps, about to bound out the door. “We’ve got some poor old man to devour,” They announced, licking their watering jowls. Dodger growled, scrunching his snout in a vicious snarl.

Before anyone could make so much as a single move, Oliver leapt. He soared the distance from him to the dogs, fur flying all around, and landed square on Roscoe’s shoulder blade, digging his claws into his skin. Roscoe yelped, bucking his back legs to throw Oliver off. When the task proved difficult, Roscoe grew frustrated, growling out his partner’s name in an attempt to get help. Desoto didn’t need much coaxing as he jumped in, his jaws flying towards Oliver.

A ferocious growl escaped Dodger then, “Back away from the kid Desoto!” He roared, throwing himself at the bigger dog. He collided with Desoto’s rib cage, flinging him back into the wall quite painfully. Oliver was still clinging to Roscoe’s dark fur for dear life, mewling in determined terror as the dog’s teeth came a bit too close for comfort. Drool was dripping from almost everywhere, causing him to slip and tighten his grip. Roscoe cried out, bucking harder than ever. Oliver’s balance was almost lost as Dodger turned on Roscoe, eyes blazing, clamping his jaws around his opposition’s throat.

“Kid! Jump!” Dodger commanded around closed teeth. Oliver obeyed, bounding back towards the sodden boxes. Einstein let Tito go then, just as Francis also chose to jump into action. Rita launched in soon after, helping the Great Dane Einstein to fend off Desoto while Dodger and Francis battled restlessly with Roscoe.

There was a tremendous crash from the road, where Sykes and Fagin were assumed to be. The gang of dogs were too preoccupied tearing at each other to notice the frightening bang, but Oliver was aware of everything and suddenly he feared for Fagin. The little cat shot a longing glance back at the fight his friends were engaged in, but pressed himself on, rushing up to the docks to check on Fagin and Sykes.

Up on the docks, the fog was rolling in, making it difficult to see. Oliver managed to locate the scuffle, and as he suspected Fagin was far from alright as Sykes was out of the car, towering over the small man. Fagin was pleading for more time, time that Sykes was obviously not about to give. In that instant Oliver noted how truly fragile Fagin was- with his billowing overly-large trench coat and his hole-ridden hat, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Sykes.

“I’ve given you too much time already Fagin,” Sykes rumbled, puffing a plume of orange tinted smoke out of the corner of his wide mouth. Sykes would tower over any man, not just a scrawny one like Fagin. His shoulder width alone would be enough to frighten; add his bulk to the equation and you get one nightmare of a man. Oliver cowered behind a post, straining to catch every single word of the exchange between the two men.

“Please Mr. Sykes!” Fagin pleaded, bending to his knees in front of the large man. Oliver looked back at the shack, praying that his friends were alright and that they’d be along soon to help. From the looks of it, Fagin didn’t have much time left. “I swear, give me one- no, two more weeks; I’ll have your money. I promise! I-I-I-swe-”

Sykes interrupted Fagin, crushing the burning end of his cigar with his fingertips while both Fagin and Oliver watched in awe. He didn’t even flinch. “Oh stop stuttering Fagin, it doesn’t become a man. You _are_ a man, aren’t you Fagin?” The feeble man managed a quick nod, bottom lip trembling. “I’ve given you all the time I have; now either you pay up, or you die.” Sykes informed him simply, not leaving room for negotiation.

“D-d-d-die?” Fagin gulped, clutching his Adam’s apple as though his own hands could protect his life. Die? The word bounced around in Oliver’s skull. This was serious. Very serious. Where in Dog’s name was Dodger? “I c-c- but you c-c-!”

“Don’t act so scared you fool!” Sykes thundered, spittle flying from his lips. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t pay up, and now here we are, me with no money, and you with no integrity. Seeing as those dogs of mine are seemingly otherwise engaged,” He muttered begrudgingly, shooting one last look at the shack. Seeing neither of his dogs, he sighed. “I shall have to do away with you myself.”

Suddenly there was a pained yelp and a thud from inside the shack, startling Oliver so much that he almost ran back to see who it was. But he didn’t have to time to discover who it came from. Sykes was pulling a shiny metal object from his breast pocket and judging by the look on Fagin’s face, that shiny metal object was not good. On impulse and without much thought, Oliver made a mad dash for Sykes.

“Say goodbye Fagin,” Sykes drawled, cocking the gun and aiming it at Fagin’s head. “You’re about to find out what happens when people don’t pay me back.” The scraggly man brought both his glove-clad hands together in prayer and begged the heavens for help...

Just as Oliver’s flying ball of fury and claws collided with Sykes’ neck. The beast of a man shouted in surprise, pawing at Oliver to prevent him tearing any more skin. Oliver persisted, surging his claws and teeth further into Sykes’ face, forcing him to stumble back toward the edge of the dock.

“Argh! Get it off!” Sykes yelled, stumbling back a few more steps. Only two more and he’d be over the edge, right onto the sharp rocks and ocean below. Oliver shook his head back and forth, ripping Sykes’ face further, encouraging him to close that last bit of distance between himself and a watery grave.

Sykes heel caught on the rail, sending him flying off balance as he began to tumble, flipping and spinning toward the oceans depths. Oliver meowed in triumph, trying to jump back to the dock; But Sykes still had a hold on his torso. Oliver struggled and mewed helplessly as he witnessed Fagin’s shock and his recently surfaced friends’ horror.

“KID!” Dodger yelled, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in absolute dread. Oliver mewled again, pleading with someone- _anyone -_ for help. With the sound of a body hitting the surface came the most pitiful, terrified squeak, followed by the pounding of determined paws on the dock above. Dodger leapt across the many boards, diving into the ocean after Oliver.

The kitten struggled against the water in more ways than one; trying to paw to the surface and also trying to wrestle his eyes open to see if he was paddling in the right direction. The water pounded in his ears, rushing close and then retreating with lightning speed, disorienting him. Sykes had stopped moving, but his grip on Oliver was still iron, and he wasn’t sure he could break free of the hold.

All of a sudden the water stirred in a cloud of bubbles and rushing currents. There was an immediate pressure on the scruff of Oliver’s neck as he was yanked free from Sykes. Oliver forced his eyes open to see Dodger pulling him to safety.

In a flurry of paws Dodger hauled Oliver to the surface, both a mess of drenched fur. Their attention was drawn up as cheers poured from the docks; the gang encouraged the two in the water, instructing Dodge to drag Oliver to the beach. Dodger took a great gulp of air and trudged forward, against the tide, and finally the two were safely in the sand.

The little cat spit up more salt water than he thought his puny body could hold, tasting the foul aroma of seaweed on his tongue. Dodger lay in the sand next to him, panting and resting his tired limbs. Oliver picked himself up and slinked over to where his friend lay, smiling in gratitude. When Dodger didn’t even offer a smirk, Oliver sniffed at him and nosed Dodge’s snout with his own.

“Dodge?” Oliver meowed uncertainly, worry coloring his voice. “Are... Are you ok?”

Dodger opened one eye, grinning at Oliver’s concern. “Never better kid, can’t you tell by looking at me?” He shuddered, spraying water everywhere. Oliver combed his sandpaper-like tongue through Dodger’s fur, cleaning his cheek and face while Dodge simply relaxed, recuperating from his most recent scare. For a second, he really thought the spunky orange fur-ball had gone for good, and Dodger didn’t quite think he could handle that.

Rita looked down at the scene and grinned, sweeping her matt of brown hair away from her little black nose. Dodger and Oliver were ok, for which she was immensely glad. If Dodger hadn’t jumped in at that moment, the little cat might’ve been lost to them. In her musings, she noticed that she and Francis were the only two left at the edge of the dock; Tito and Einstein had sauntered over to free Fagin of his shock.

“Do you ever remember seeing Dodge like this?” Rita asked Francis with a smile. It warmed her heart to watch the little kitten take care of the mutt who’d taken him in. Francis chewed on the thought, his pose regal when he finally responded with an equally regal answer.

“Never in the years that’s I’ve know Dodger have I seen him this infatuated with another four-legged critter.” Francis announced, rolling his R’s perhaps more than necessary. Rita grinned and shot her gaze back to Oliver, who was now burying his face in the loose fur around Dodger’s neck.

“That kid’s got Dodge wrapped right around his furry little orange tail,” Rita agreed with another smile. “Isn’t it adorable? They’re just like brothers.”

Francis scoffed, “Adorable, indeed.” He grumbled. “Women find the oddest things cute.” Rita told him to hush and go help out with Fagin. Francis obeyed without much objection, wanting to get as far away from the perplexity that was women as quickly as possible.

Rita followed him with her gaze, shaking her head in amused exasperation. Why wasn’t he happy for Dodger? The sly mutt hadn’t built this kind of bond with another living creature since he’d been abandoned as a pup. Rita sighed as she gazed down at the pair again, smiling to herself. Oliver didn’t realize how lucky he was to have a devoted older brother like Dodger.

“Dodge?” Oliver mumbled into the scruff around Dodger’s neck. Dodge lifted his head to look back at the kitten huddled into his side and smiled.

“Yeah kid?” He yawned, stretching his paws out in front of him.

“Can we go home? I’m beat.” Oliver yawned as if to prove his point, almost losing his balance and falling backwards. Dodger chuckled and nodded, leaping up the beams to reach the docks. Oliver followed quickly, stumbling only once or twice.

“Not too shabby kid,” Dodger praised with a sly wink. “A few months down the road and you’ll be a real pro.” Oliver blinked up at Dodger with wonder in his wide eyes. “Do you really think so?” He mewled as Dodger made his way to the shack.

“Have I ever lied to you kid?” Dodger asked, trotting along the docks. They met a grinning Rita at the door, and Dodger shot her a curious look. Rita simply gave a wink as Oliver raced past Dodger, intent on beating him to the house with his new found pride.

“You really care about him Dodge,” Rita observed as Dodger playfully growled at Oliver, promising to catch up after he talked to Rita. Oliver scampered back into the house, colliding with Tito on his way down the stairs. Fagin laughed at the display, sinking into his armchair.

Dodger eyed Rita indignantly. “Yeah, so? What’s it to ya?” He expanded his chest, trying to look indifferent. Rita laughed, which only agitated Dodger further.

“Nothing Dodge,” Rita assured him, still chuckling. “It’s cute that’s all. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.” Dodger shuffled uncomfortably, averting Rita’s gaze until he was able to compose himself. When he did, he turned to her with a smirk.

“Somebody’s gotta teach him the ropes Reet, and who better than a charming, street-wise, lovable dog like me?” Dodger brushed past Rita, stumbling on a stair but recovering with a grin. Rita shook her head, following them into the shack.

Dodger plodded around his makeshift bed, fluffing the pillows and leaping into it full-force. He was absolutely beat, and he had more than a few scratches to show for the weariness of his day. His spine cracked as he relaxed his posture, letting his eyes drop closed. Rita had been right- he did care about Oliver. He was like the little brother Dodger never had.

Oliver scrambled onto his favourite pillow, curling into Dodger’s stomach and nuzzling the soft skin of his underbelly. Dodge lifted a lazy eyelid to glance at the cat, a slow smile creeping across his face.

“Night kid,” Dodger yawned, nuzzling the kitten’s cheek. Oliver yawned back, returning the gesture. Dodge grinned, wrapping his body around Oliver’s and settling in for the night. Oliver snuggled into Dodger’s brotherly embrace, quickly drifting off to sleep.


End file.
